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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25825942">A Shot in the Dark</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forthenightisdarkandfullofterror/pseuds/Forthenightisdarkandfullofterror'>Forthenightisdarkandfullofterror</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>When I watch the world burn (all I think about is you) [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Endeavour (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Book yourselves a dentist appointment because this fluff is going to rot your teeth x, Domestic Fluff, Hurt Endeavour Morse, Hurt/Comfort, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:33:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,647</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25825942</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forthenightisdarkandfullofterror/pseuds/Forthenightisdarkandfullofterror</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a stakeout gone wrong Morse if faced with the likelihood of never being able to see again and dealing with what it will mean for his and Peter's future.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Jakes/Endeavour Morse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>When I watch the world burn (all I think about is you) [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1772587</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Nothing's ever easy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I swear after this chapter its mostly fluff xx<br/>(set like three months after part 3 if anyone's interested)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Morse couldn’t remember the last time it rained this hard, it poured down so heavily it looked like thick sheets of water falling from the sky. it blurred his vision, making it difficult to make out objects in front of him in the dimly lit back streets.</p><p>As planned, the car thief had made an appearance, trying to force his way into the purposefully placed vehicle. Only before Morse was close enough, he heard the noise of footsteps and bolted. He, Strange and a handful of PCs on the stakeout had dispersed down the back streets trying to catch up to the man.</p><p>Morse was running down the alleys, soaked to the bone. He was glad he didn’t wear his jacket now though; it wouldn’t have saved him from the rain, it’d only have weighed him down as he scrambled after the dark clothed man.</p><p>Morse was cautiously edging around a corner, cursing the poorly lit passageway and his inability to see more than five meters inf front of him.</p><p>He made his way into the street, trying to listen out for footsteps or anything that would suggest where the man had run off to. Surely, he couldn’t be far.</p><p>There was a small thud of a footstep behind him.</p><p>Shit, <em>behind</em> <em>him</em>.</p><p>He tried to spin around the face the owner of the noise.</p><p>But he couldn’t, he was too slow.</p><p>The man landed a sickening blow to the back of Morse’s head with the same crowbar he’d used to try and break into the car.</p><p>He was vaguely aware of a thrumming pain before darkness claimed him.</p>
<hr/><p>Strange didn’t appreciate the choice of evenings for this stakeout. The heavens were well and truly open, and he couldn’t understand why it hadn’t been called off. He should be at home, cooking a joint of ham for dinner in front of the fire and watching the footy, not drowning in rain running after some car thief.</p><p>He had no idea how long he’d spent roaming the backstreets, only coming across one of the PCs running around frantically with his baton out in front of him during his search.</p><p>Strange decided the likelihood of finding the man was very slim, it had been too long since he bolted from the scene, there was no way he’d stick around. If the man had any sense, he’d be at home already, drying himself off. Jim determined it would be best to call off the search, turning to head back to the meet point.</p><p>He rounded a few streets, slowly finding his way back to the square before something ahead of him caught his eye, but he didn’t want to see what his eyes were showing him.</p><p>Morse was face down on the floor, his left side raised slightly by the dark wall to his side.</p><p>He couldn’t even tell if he was breathing.</p><p>‘<em>Shit. Shit. Bloody hell’</em> is all that ran through Strange’s mind as he ran over to Morse quicker than he thought possible.</p><p>He dropped to his knees beside the DC instantly going to his neck to find a pulse. Slow but it was certainly there.</p><p>He let out a weighted breath of relief. “Morse?” He wasn’t really expecting a response, but it made him panic again anyways.</p><p>Jim rolled the detective over carefully, trying to see any injuries in the terribly lit alley. The damn rain made it impossible to tell if there was any blood or not. He moved Morse’s back to his chest, supporting him by the shoulders to try and warm the lad up.</p><p>“Morse? <em>Morse</em>. Come on, matey.” He shook the unconscious man, but nothing happened. “Morse? Can you hear me?”</p><p>Morse didn’t stir, rain still poured down on them, drenching them. Strange had no idea what was wrong, there was nothing obviously wrong with him other than a bruise coming through on the side of his cheek, probably from where he landed.</p><p>He swore. No one was ever going to find them back there, he needed to get help. He quickly, and rather unceremoniously, scooped Morse up under his knees and back and quickly made his way back to the square.</p><p>“Call an ambulance!” Strange yelled at a PC – PC Corey? – from across the street who immediately jumped into action.</p><p>He found shelter under a canopy of a newsagents, grateful to be out of the rain. He laid Morse gently out in front of him.</p><p>“Morse, matey, you’re alright. Ambulance is on its way.” He said to Morse who hadn’t stirred even slightly. Thursday was going to kill him.</p><p>PCs at the scene started crowding the two detectives, wondering what on earth was going on. One of them had the initiative to cover them with their large umbrella to give them extra protection from the elements. Strange gave the PC a grateful smile.</p><p>He kept one hand to Morse’s wrist, monitoring his slow pulse. He had no idea how hurt he was, how injured he could be. He instinctively ran his hand over Morse’s head, trying to figure out why the man was out cold.</p><p>There. An obvious lump to the back of his head, no blood.</p><p>Strange let out a breath, glad it was hopefully just a slight blow rendering him unconscious. Knowing Morse, he’d wake up and shout at Strange for overreacting and calling an ambulance.</p><p>But he didn’t.</p><p>The ambulance arrived five minutes later. They took no time putting him onto a stretcher, locking his head in a brace that, if conscious, Morse would certainly protest over and whisked him away. <em>Can’t be too safe with head injuries</em>, they’d said.</p><p>Strange followed in the Jag to the hospital, heading straight for the front desk in a shaking panic. “Detective sergeant Strange, I’m here for DC Morse.”</p><p>The receptionist looked up tiredly at Strange, clearly having a long day at work. “Mr Morse has been admitted to the ICU, I’m afraid you can’t see him right now.” she said bluntly, looking back down to her files.</p><p>Jim blinked. “The ICU? What’s wrong with him?”</p><p>He was his superior dammit he should know this. He should know what happened.</p><p>The nurse sighed. “Please, Sir, have a seat.”</p><p>“But what’s wrong with him? Surely, he doesn’t need to be in the ICU, it’s – it’s only a little bang on the head.” Strange insisted, unable to comprehend the truth being worse.</p><p>“A doctor will be with you shortly, please take a seat, detective.”</p><p>Strange took a breath and moved back from the desk that he was hovering over. He didn’t know what to do. He was under his orders. He was his immediate superior and now he was in hospital. He didn’t even know what was wrong with him.</p><p>He began to understand what Thursday went through every vigil he’d attended.</p><p>He blinked.</p><p>Shit. He needed to call Thursday.</p><p>He quickly found the courtesy phones down the corridor, finding Thursday’s home number on a note in his wallet and dialled the number.</p><p>Win answered the phone in her chirpy voice, hearing her call Fred to the phone after asking for him.</p><p>“Thursday.”</p><p>“It’s Strange, sir.” Is all he could manage. He really should have planned what he was going to say.</p><p>“What is it sergeant?” That was certainly his ‘it’s after 9pm and I want to be left alone to watch the footy highlights with Sam’ voice.</p><p>“There’s ah- been an accident. Well, not an accident per say, it definitely seemed intentional.” He rambled nervously.</p><p>“What’s happened?”</p><p>“I’m not sure, Sir. I presume Morse had a run in with the suspect we were following and –“</p><p>“Cut to the bloody point, Strange!” Thursday snapped. He didn’t have time for bumbling detectives at this hour.</p><p>“He’s in the ICU. I don’t know what happened, Sir.” He stuttered out, voice shaking.</p><p>“What?! Damnit, I’m on my way.” He paused in thought. “Has sergeant Jakes been informed?”</p><p>Strange caught his breath. It hadn’t even crossed his mind.</p><p>“I’ll go by their flat on my way.” He put down the phone quickly.</p>
<hr/><p>Thursday didn’t have time to call and warn Jakes before he turned up at his door, deciding it’d be better to break the news, what little news he had, in person.</p><p>He quickly knocked on the door. Jakes appeared seconds later “Morse, about ti-“ he stopped, taken aback at the man who definitely wasn’t Morse in front of him.</p><p>“Jakes, can I come in?”</p><p>“Sir?” He stepped back, letting the inspector step into his living room, and clicked the door shut.</p><p>Thursday turned to Jakes, planning his words. “I don’t want you to worry but there’s been an incident, Morse is in hospital.”</p><p>“What?! What happened?” Jakes cut in, eyes widening as he absorbed what Thursday said.  </p><p>“I don’t know, I got a call from Strange not ten minutes ago.”</p><p>Jakes couldn’t breathe for a second, unable to swallow the lump in his throat. “But – but it was only car thefts! Surely there’s been some mistake?”</p><p>“I’m sure it’ll just be a knock on the head or something. Nothing to worry yourself over too much.”</p><p>Jakes nodded, “Let me get my things.” He said disappearing for his shoes.</p><p>Thursday couldn’t help but feel guilty for lying to the DS. Since when was being admitted to ICU ever the case for ‘a bump on the head’?</p>
<hr/><p>Jakes could feel his anxiety bubble away inside him. It had taken all too long to get to the hospital, even longer to force his legs to carry him to the reception where they found Strange sat waiting.</p><p>“What happened?” Jakes asked immediately, stopping not a meter away from Strange who had risen from his seat.</p><p>“I don’t know, they won’t tell me anything.” Strange stammered, avoiding eye contact.</p><p>Jakes threw his arms up in annoyance. “What do you mean you don’t know? You were there weren’t you?”</p><p>Strange took a small step back, staring at the floor. “No, we, ugh, split up to cover more area, we followed the suspect down the back streets. By the time I found him he was down.”</p><p>“<em>Down</em>?”</p><p>“He was out cold. I couldn’t wake him.”</p><p>Jakes shook his head. “This is bullshit! Hey, I need to see a patient, Endeavour Morse.” He almost charged to the desk.</p><p>“I’m sorry Sir, you can’t see him right now, you need to wait for the doctor.” The receptionist irately repeated.</p><p>Thursday quickly stepped in before Jakes could shout again. “Do you have any information on his condition? anything at all, we just want to know if he’s alright.” He almost pleaded.</p><p>The nurse sighed. “I’m sorry, sir, his status is unclear.”</p><p>“Unclear? What do you mean <em>unclear</em>?” Jakes spoke up again. He hated the lack of help anyone was giving them. A simple ‘he’ll be fine’ would be enough, but they weren’t telling them anything. Couldn’t they see how desperate he was? It’s a miracle the receptionist wasn’t paying too much attention, or she’d be screaming poof in his face, and the worst thing was he didn’t care. This was Morse. Nothing else mattered.</p><p>“Hey, matey, come on. Let’s just wait for the doctor alright?” Strange put a hand on Jakes shoulder, trying to guide him back to the waiting area.</p><p>Jakes angrily pushed off the supportive hand, stomping over to the vacant chairs, deep down knowing his irritation towards Strange wasn’t really justifiable.</p>
<hr/><p>It was another 30 minutes before a doctor emerged, walking over seemingly cautious. “Are you here for Endeavour Morse?”</p><p>The three of them rose instantly. “Yes.” Said Thursday, taking lead.</p><p>“Please, take a seat.” The doctor spoke calmly. “I’m Doctor Brown, a neurology specialist. Endeavour’s suffered a blow to the back of the head; he hasn’t regained consciousness but that’s to be expected for a head injury of this type. His vitals are strong, and his motor responses are normal.”</p><p>“Sorry?” Strange asked, unable to process the medical jargon through his concern.</p><p>“He can move his arms and legs, sir, so there’s no damage there.”</p><p>Jakes could feel it coming.</p><p>“But-“</p><p>There it was.</p><p>“His eye response is slow.”</p><p>Jakes blinked, what the hell does that mean?</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Thursday asked, reading Jakes’ mind.  </p><p>“The blow to his head was on the side where the occipital lobe is, responsible for vision... Right now, Endeavour isn’t responding to light.”</p><p>“What? What does that mean?” Strange asked again.</p><p>“I’m saying that there’s a chance of post traumatic cortical blindness.”</p><p>Jakes stared at the doctor, unblinking. “No. <em>no</em>.” He shook his head, panic setting in. “You’ve got it wrong. There must be some mistake. He can’t be.” He rose from his seat and started pacing, trying to process the unfathomable words the doctor spoke.</p><p>“Sir, you need to understand this could just be temporary.”</p><p>“<em>Could</em>?” Jakes must be imagining it, surely this was a nightmare. Some sick joke. This couldn’t be happening to him. Not Morse. Anyone but him.</p><p>“It may return in three to four days but if it doesn’t it’s likely there’ll be lasting damage.” The doctor watched the three men despairing in front of him. “We won’t know more before morning. We’ll continue to monitor him overnight, but I advise you to go home and get some sleep. We can call when he regains consciousness or if there’s any changes.”</p><p>“Thanks, doc.” Strange forced out.</p><p>Jakes wasn’t going anywhere without Endeavour. “I’ve got to go and see him.”</p><p>“Jakes –“</p><p>“No. I’m his emergency contact, I’m allowed to see him!” He quickly stormed off towards the ICU, leaving Thursday and Strange with a surprised look on their faces.</p><p>They knew how close he and Morse were, but they weren’t aware Morse had taken those kinds of steps.</p>
<hr/><p>He arrived at Morse’s room in the ICU finding Morse ‘sleeping’ seemingly peacefully.</p><p>He looked almost normal if it wasn’t for the heart monitor and mask over his mouth to help him breathe.</p><p>He closed the door and twisted the blinds that covered the window looking onto the corridor, closing off the outside world before taking a seat next to his bed.</p><p>“Hey, Endeavour, its me.” He said shakily before taking his hand, relieved to find it warm. “You’re okay. You’re gonna’ be okay.” He whispered over and over, letting the tears he’d been trying so hard to hold back escape.</p><p>“I’m here, Morse. Right here.” He gave his hand a soft squeeze, brushing the curls from his forehead with the other.</p><p>“I need you to be strong Morse, okay? You need to wake up for me. <em>Please</em>, love.” His voice broke on every word. How could he expect Morse to be strong if he couldn’t be himself?</p><p>“I need you to come back to me, Endeavour. I know you can.”</p><p>But he didn’t. the doctor was right, he hadn’t shown any signs of waking up at all. But there also weren’t any bad signs either, which he took some relief in.</p><p>He dozed off in the uncomfortable chair at some point, waking to Thursday slipping in mid-morning. “How is he?”</p><p>Jakes wiped his hands over his face. “No change.” His hands shook in front of him. God, he needed a cigarette.</p><p>Thursday closed the space between them before putting a firm hand on Jakes’ shoulder. “He’s going to be fine, Jakes. Just temporary.”</p><p>Jakes shook his head, holding his hands tightly together in his lap. “You don’t know that. He could be like this forever.”</p><p>“He won’t, Peter. This is Morse we’re talking about, he’s too stubborn.”</p><p>Jakes smiled slightly. It was true, it wouldn’t be like Morse to give up, but he’d never been faced with the prospect of losing one of his senses before. He should be glad it wasn’t his hearing; Morse would cease to be Morse if he couldn’t listen to opera.</p><p>“Why don’t you step out for a few minutes, Jakes. Get some fresh air? Can’t be good being all cooped up in here.”</p><p>Jakes looked to Morse uncertainly. He didn’t want to leave him alone. What if he woke up and he wasn’t there? What if on top of waking up possibly blind and confused, Jakes wasn’t there for him?</p><p>Thursday read his anxiety. “Doesn’t have to be long. Just time to stretch your legs.”</p><p>Jakes nodded, placing Morse’s hand back onto the bed and quietly shuffled out of the dull room.</p><p>Jakes found the smoking area through one of the hospitals side doors that lead into a floral garden next to one of the annexes. Some part of the painful building had to be beautiful he guessed, looking at the peonies and roses that lined the paths. He found a bench to perch on and lit a very needed cigarette.</p><p>How had everything gone to hell in a handbasket so fast? He was sat at home, watching some crappy soap, waiting for Morse to come home and all of a sudden, he was faced with the chance that Morse might never be <em>Morse</em> again.</p><p>Morse couldn’t be blind, it’d destroy him. He’d lose his job, his independence, everything he cared about. Other than Peter, of course. He’d made sure he was the one thing in Morse’s shit show of a life that he could count on. Someone he could always rely on when everything else was uncertain.</p>
<hr/><p>Thursday took the seat, still warm from Jakes’ presence.</p><p>“Alright Morse, its Thursday.”</p><p>He said, putting his hand over Morse’s, happy to feel it was warm. Too many times he’d taken a cold hand and feared the worst. Morse was very much alive and – almost – well.</p><p>“You need to wake up lad, people are starting to worry. Wins going out of her mind, hell, <em>I’m</em> going out of my mind.”</p><p>“Don’t think Jakes is doing well without you either.” He added softly</p><p>He decided from this moment he was banning Morse from any sort of police work that wasn’t desk duty. He’d damn well had enough of sitting by hospital beds waiting for Morse to wake up.</p><p>“Come on lad, you can do this.” He squeezed his hand, praying Morse would return it. he didn’t.</p><p>Fred let out a sigh, watching the even rise and fall of Morse’s chest. At least there was never a threat to life this time, Fred thought solemnly. Usually it was a brush with death that resulted in these vigils, but he couldn’t decide which was worse. Even in the worst situations, the doctor often came with the ‘expected to make a full recovery’ and he damn well always did. But this time wasn’t the same. They didn’t know if he’d ever recover.</p><p>Thursday was surprised feeling tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn’t remember when he started to cry, but he couldn’t stop. His brilliant young lad was blind. He knew how badly it would affect Morse and it broke his heart, he only prayed to god it was temporary. He couldn’t lose another bagman, even if he were still alive. You can’t be a copper without your sight, hell, it was hard enough persuading the police physician his eyesight was good enough at his annual exams. Morse would lose his job. Lose his purpose. He couldn’t think about it. it was incomprehensible.</p>
<hr/><p>Jakes was out of his mind with worry. Morse still hadn’t woken up. Even three cigarettes hadn’t taken the edge off his nerves, silently wishing he could try drowning them in alcohol.</p><p>Thursday had returned to the station a little while after he’d come back to Morse’s room, CID unable to spare three detectives at once.</p><p>Hours passed but there was still no change. Not even a small sign of Morse waking up and it was slowly breaking his heart.</p><p>A nurse came in just after four o’clock, checking his vitals. “sir, we’re going to take him for some tests soon, so you’ll have to step out for a while.”</p><p>Jakes stared at her, trying to understand what she was saying. He wanted to protest but he knew it was futile. He nodded absently.</p><p>“He family?” the nurse asked.</p><p>“Ugh, no. just a friend.” <em>Just a friend and possibly the love of my life who may or may not be permanently blind</em>, Jakes internally corrected.</p><p>“Well, I’m sure the tests won’t take too long.” She smiled and left the room</p><p>Peter looked to the door, making sure there wasn’t anyone around before he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Morse’s forehead. “I’ll be right back, Morse.”</p><p>Typically for Morse he chose to move as soon as Jakes let go of his hand.</p><p>Jakes was almost out of the room before he heard the sharp intake of air. He spun round immediately, finding Morse grabbing at the face mask, struggling to control his breathing.</p><p>“Morse!”</p><p>He ran to the bed, pulling the mask off, “Hey, hey. It’s okay Morse, you’re okay.”</p><p>But Morse wasn’t looking at him. “Peter?”</p><p>“Morse.” He said, taking Morse’s face with both hands and hovering over his line of sight. “I’m right here Endeavour.”</p><p>“Peter? Peter?”</p><p>“I’m here Morse, right here.” Jakes insisted, holding his face Morse firmly. </p><p>Morse’s hands came to his wrists and he looked in his direction. “Peter?! where – where are you?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. If I just lay here</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Peter takes Morse home</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yaaaayyy! An update! As a birthday treat from me to you I'm gonna try and update all my WIPs in the next few days&lt;33 </p><p>I'M 21!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How can you stand there and tell me he’s blind?!” Jakes raged at the doctor, even though deep down he knew it wouldn’t solve anything. he just needed to be angry. Angry at something, someone because <em>it wasn’t fair</em>.</p><p>“I understand you’re upset, sir. We’re doing everything we can to keep him comfortable, his eyesight may return in a matter of days. Brain injuries are a serious thing, you need to understand.”</p><p>Jakes shook his head. He didn’t want to hear it. <em>Couldn’t</em> hear it. Morse with a brain injury? The thing that makes Morse <em>Morse</em>. He couldn’t comprehend it.</p><p>“There must be something we can do!”</p><p>The doctor gave him a sympathetic grimace. “I’m afraid his options are limited. I could try and contact a specialist, but it would likely take too long for them to come. There is a possibility of surgery if his sight doesn’t naturally return in the next few days, but its extremely risky.”</p><p>“How risky?”</p><p>“The type of surgery has only been performed a handful of times, its mostly unsuccessful and a third of the patients suffer life threatening strokes. As I said, it’s very early days and only usually performed if the patient is terminal.”</p><p>Peter’s fingers pulled at his short hair in desperation, his palms covering his forehead.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>.” It was almost a shout, would have been, if he weren’t slowly breaking down.</p><p>“Just give it time, Mr Jakes. Take every day as it comes, we’ll do our best to help his recovery.”</p><p>Jakes nodded in defeat. There was nothing he could do. He was powerless. Even if his sight didn’t come back, he wasn’t sure if Morse would want to risk surgery, especially with how dangerous it sounded.</p><p>He padded back into Morse’s room once he’d calmed down. He didn’t want Morse panicking more than he already was.</p><p>Morse was awake and was staring unseeingly at the ceiling of the horridly bland room that stunk of disinfectant and illness.</p><p>“Hey, Endeavour.” Jakes said, sitting himself on the side of the bed by Morse’s hip.</p><p>“Peter?” He said, lifting his head from the pillows stacked to support him, reaching out a hand in Peter’s direction.</p><p>“Hey, I’m right here. You’re okay.” He took Morse’s hand quickly, careful of anyone that could walk in.</p><p>Morse shook his head. “I’m not okay Peter! I’m not okay.” He started breathing shallower, panicking, tears threatening to spill.</p><p>Peters free hand quickly snaked around the small of Morse’s back, giving him a firm hold to ground himself. “Morse, breathe. You’re going to be, alright? It’s just temporary.” Jakes lied. In truth he had no idea if he was ever going to be alright again. “Just take a breath, there we go. That’s good, Morse really good.”</p><p>Morse calmed slightly, managing a deep enough breath to allow him to form coherent words. “What h-happened?”</p><p>Of course, Morse couldn’t remember. He wished there were a doctor with them so he could ask them what to do. He didn’t want to tell Morse what had transpired in case he panicked again, but he knew how insistent Morse would be if he gave him nothing. “What do you remember?”</p><p>Morse frowned for a moment; hand gripping Peter’s harder as if to squeeze the information out. “I – I don’t know… I was on a case… the car thefts?”</p><p>“That’s right Morse, yeah.”</p><p>Morse shook his head, eyes glassing over. “I – I can’t remember. Why can’t I remember?”</p><p>Peter squeezed Morse’s hand. “Shh Morse, hey. You’re okay, you’re doing good. You were on a case; you took a blow to the back of your head.”</p><p>“Is that why I can’t see?”</p><p>“Yes, love.  It ah – affected the part of your brain that processes vision, apparently. It’s usually temporary though, so don’t worry.”</p><p>“Usually? What do you mean <em>usually</em>? Peter, I can’t – I.” His eyes welled with tears which finally broke free, running down Morse’s freckled cheeks.</p><p>“I know, Morse, I know.” Peter chocked out, gently wiping the tears away. “It’s going to be alright, Morse. I promise.”</p><p>He had to be strong for him, for <em>them,</em> but seeing Morse break down in front of him was heart breaking. He wanted to cocoon the younger man in his arms, take all of his pain away, but he couldn’t. he could only sit there and whisper broken promises and soft words.</p><p>There was a knock at the door and Jakes reluctantly pulled away once Morse loosened his grip. “I’ll be right here okay, Morse? Right here next to you.”</p><p>Morse nodded, letting his empty hand drop to his side as Peter moved away from him.</p><p>Peter wiped his own face dry before opening the door, not noticing the tears he’d spilled whilst trying to comfort Morse.</p><p>“Mr Jakes, glad Endeavour has someone to keep him company.” The doctor from earlier greeted, making his way over to the bedside.</p><p>“It’s Morse. My name’s Morse.” Morse added quickly.</p><p>“Morse.” The doctor corrected. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>“Fantastic.” He retorted irritably. What the hell was the doctor expecting?</p><p>“Do you think you could answer some questions for me?”  </p><p>Morse reluctantly nodded.</p><p>“Do you know where you are?”</p><p>“Hospital. Cowley General I presume.” He said bluntly, already unimpressed.</p><p>The doctor made some notes on the chart in his hand. “Can you tell me what day it is?”</p><p>“I – ah I don’t know.”</p><p>“It’s alright, nothing to worry about. And who’s this fellow by your side?”</p><p>Morse relaxed slightly. “Peter Jakes, detective sergeant.”</p><p>“Very good. Do you know why you’re here?”</p><p>“Peter said I got hit in the head. But I ca- can’t remember.” He stuttered nervously, wishing he could look to Peter for support.</p><p>As if reading his mind, Peter put a gentle and on Morse’s shoulder.</p><p>“It’s alright, Morse. You need to understand the memory and sight loss is a normal reaction to this sort of head injury.”</p><p>Morse didn’t reply. He couldn’t stop thinking about the inevitability of permanent blindness. How his life as he knew it was over at the grand old age of 30.</p><p>“Are you in any pain?”</p><p>He could feel Peters eyes burning a hole in the side of his head. “No.”</p><p>“Good. Do you have any questions?”</p><p>“When can I leave?” Morse asked without missing a beat.</p><p>“Sir, I think it’s in your best interest if you remained at the hospital so we can monitor your condition.”</p><p>Morse scowled. “Why? It could take days if it even happens at all! I want to go home.” He knew how childish he sounded but he didn’t care. He hated hospitals, even more so when he couldn’t see what was going on around him.</p><p>The doctor sighed. “You’d need around the clock support, someone to monitor your progress. Do you have someone you can depend on for that?”</p><p>“He does.” Jakes answered for him, taking a step closer to Morse.</p><p>“I see. Well I can’t force you to stay, but I advise you do, at least for a few days.”</p><p>“I thought you said its better to be comfortable to recover from this? He’ll be happier at home.” <em>With</em> <em>me</em>, Peter didn’t add.</p><p>“True, but do you have any practice in tending to someone with no vision? Its dangerous for them to climb stairs, walk around without help, it’s a lot to cope with.”</p><p>“I can look after him just fine.” Jakes gritted out.</p><p>“If you insist. We’ll keep him overnight and do some additional tests before he can be discharged, but if you’re sure you can manage it, we’ll let Morse out tomorrow morning.”</p><p>Peter offered Morse’s shoulder a quick squeeze, giving him a relieved smile even though it wasn’t reciprocated.</p><hr/><p>Morse was released from hospital the next morning, as the doctor had promised, and Peter had wasted no time getting things in place for him. he’d tidied the flat so there wasn’t anything tripping hazards, swept the steps by the front door, even put a mat in the bath to stop Morse slipping. All measures Morse would probably have told him not to bother with but if Peter was going to be in charge of his recovery, he was doing everything by the book.</p><p>He’d also put in a week’s leave that Bright had immediately signed off on the pretences that Morse really did need someone to care for him right now.</p><p>When they finally arrived home, Peter practically jumped across the bonnet to reach the other side of the Jag to help Morse out, who was already stubbornly trying by himself.</p><p>“Wait, Morse, I’ve got ya’.” Peter said quickly, placing his hand under the crook of his elbow to guide him to their flat. Luckily, Morse had a damn good memory and hardly needed telling when to expect the steps by the front door, as if he had a calculated blueprint in his mind.</p><p>Peter lead Morse, who held a tight grip on Peter’s wrist, into the living room and onto the sofa, where the DC instantly slouched.</p><p>Peter looked down at him, unsure what to do now. He had practically no directions from the doctor other than to ask him routine questions every few hours to check his concussion and make sure he rests.</p><p>Peter looked around and just on cue his eyes fell on the kitchen door. “You must be hungry, how about I make us up a big lunch, ey? Bacon, sausages, hash browns, could even get some black pudding? The full Monty. Or I could make sandwiches? You love those prawn ones I make.”</p><p>Morse didn’t reply, didn’t even lift his head in response, sitting on the edge of the sofa. He was unusually quiet the whole journey home, but then there was nothing usual about their situation.</p><p>Peter frowned down at Morse who still sat, scowling in dead silence. “Hey, Morse. You’re okay, you’re home now.” He said gently, squatting down in front of Morse, hands balancing himself on the younger mans knees.</p><p>Morse still didn’t acknowledge him.</p><p>“It’s just us now, Endeavour, we’ll get through this.” He placed a soft kiss on Morse’s forehead as he rose. “Let me get you some water. Doc’ said it’s important you stay hydrated.”</p><p>He quickly retrieved a glass from the kitchen and kneeled in front of Morse again, slowly guiding Morse’s hands to grip the sides of the glass.</p><p>He slowly let go, watching Morse feebly grip the glass. He lifted his shaking hands, trying to raise the glass to his mouth, before losing his grip and the glass tumbled out of his hands.</p><p>Peter immediately grabbed the glass mid-air, stopping it smashing on the floor.</p><p>“Shit!” Morse shouted, flailing his arms in a failing attempt to catch the glass himself.</p><p>“It’s alright Morse, I’ve got it.” he was glad in that moment he’d only filled a third of the glass.</p><p>Morse was breathing heavily from the sudden rush of adrenaline, Peter noticed. “Want to lie down for a minute?”</p><p>“I’m sick of lying down.” Morse shot back bitterly.</p><p>“Okay, okay we’ll sit.”</p><p>He perched next to Morse, taking his hands once he’d put the glass on the coffee table. “Talk to me Morse.”</p><p>Morse shrugged looking like he was about to break. “Nothing to say.”</p><p>“Don’t, Morse. Don’t push me away.” Sighed Peter, eyes scanning the strained posture Morse held.</p><p>“I’m not, I just-“ He swallowed thickly, letting out a small whimpering noise. “Jesus Peter, I can’t fucking see.” Suddenly Morse fell into a fit of tears, letting Peter envelope him into his chest.</p><p>“It’s okay, love. It’s going to be alright.” Jakes murmured, cheek pressed against Morse’s ear, one hand buried in Morse’s hair and the other wrapped tightly around his back, holding him close as he sobbed.</p><p>Morse shook his head, fisting at Jakes’ shirt. “What am I going to do?”</p><p>“You’re going to get better.” Peter said as confidently as he could manage, carding a strong hand through the curls.  </p><hr/><p>The afternoon consisted of opera and Peter reading the papers crossword clues out loud to Morse who feverishly declined the option of going out of the flat for a walk – or any outdoor activity.</p><p>Morse had his back leaning against Jakes’ side, head resting on the older man’s shoulder, knees drawn to his chest as they both sat on the sofa.</p><p>Peter tried not to hunch over as he held the paper in one hand and pen in the other, balancing the crossword on his leg, raised up by resting it on the coffee table.</p><p>“nine across, ‘An action carried out with no interest’, eleven letters.”</p><p>Morse frowned for a second, “Perfunctory.”</p><p>“Per- what?”</p><p>Morse smiled, “Perfunctory, an emotionless action, often associated to routine tasks.”</p><p>“Well that knock clearly didn’t mess with your big brain too much.” Peter laughed.</p><p>“I think it’s actually easier to think when you can’t see.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>Morse shrugged. “Yeah, can’t get distracted by things in front of you.”</p><p>“Huh, surprised you haven’t tried it before.”</p><p>Morse craned his head as if to look at Peter. “If I closed my eyes every time I tried to think, I’d have lived my whole life blind.”</p><p>Jakes smiled hesitantly, unsure if that was really something to be joking about right now. he tossed the paper onto the coffee table, letting one hand tease through Morse’s hair. “What are you thinking about at the moment?”</p><p>“You, mostly... Thinking about how I wish I could see that worried look on your face, the way your mouth twitches when I say something ridiculous. Your hair that’s probably almost perfect right now.”</p><p>Peter smiled. “Almost?”</p><p>“You haven’t left my side for over 12 hours Peter; it’s hardly going to be perfectly placed after that long.”</p><p>“You don’t give my hair gel enough credit.”</p><p>Morse smiled, sitting up to turn and face him. “Really? Let’s see then.”</p><p>Morse raised a hand, coming into contact with Peters shoulder, gently finding his way up his neck, jaw, and finally resting at the top of Peters head. “It does feel very in place.” Morse decided, letting his fingers trace the slightly stiff hair. “Shame.” He smiled mischievously before vigorously ruffling the straight hair with his hand.</p><p>“Morse!” Jakes shouted, squatting Morse away.</p><p>Morse was laughing, knowing the damage was done.</p><p>“I look like I’ve been dragged through a bush!”</p><p>Morse just laughed harder. Peter retaliated by pushing Morse down onto the sofa. “Think this is funny, do you?” He asked pretending to sound annoyed, hands pinned either side of Morse’s head to keep him balanced above him. In reality, seeing him smiling and laughing like that was the best thing Peter had seen in days.</p><p>“I can only imagine.” Morse said through grinning teeth, reaching out with both hands to find the sides of Peters face.</p><p>Peter beamed down, taking in the sight of Morse happy since the whole ordeal started.</p><p>Morse pulled him down, connecting his lips with Peters.</p><p>The familiar taste of tobacco lingered on Peters tongue, feeling Morse’s sliding against it. Jakes gave an appreciative groan, deepening the kiss.</p><p>Morse pulled back slightly, catching Peter’s bottom lip gently between his teeth.</p><p>Peter grinned. “Tease.”</p><p>“Not a tease if you follow through.”</p><p>“Endeavour Morse, what is it with you wanting sex every time you get out of hospital.” Peter laughed, shaking his head, still shadowing over Morse.</p><p>“Not my fault, I don’t get to touch you in there.”</p><p>Jakes silently agreed. Not being able to touch Morse for so long always made him crave it more. “Maybe later if you eat enough, promise.”</p><p>“Come on Peter, I don’t need babying.”</p><p>“You don’t, but you do need food, you haven’t eaten for almost eight hours and I don’t know about you but I’m hungry.”</p><p>“I could eat.”</p><p>“Good, right what record do you want on whilst I cook?”</p><hr/><p>Morse and Peter lay intertwined in bed, tired and sated from Peter sticking to his promise. Morse had his head resting on Peter’s chest, the older man’s hand running up and down Morse’s side in warm contact.</p><p>Peter was staring at the ceiling, almost forgetting that things weren’t perfectly normal between them as he busked in the afterglow.</p><p>Morse eventually broke the silence, bringing Peter back to reality. “Peter what if – what if I don’t get better?”</p><p>Peter knew that question was coming. “’Course you will, it’s only been a day.”</p><p>Morse huffed, burying his face further into Peter.</p><p>“Just gotta’ be patient, can’t rush these things.”</p><p>Morse tightened his grip around Jakes’ waist. “Peter Jakes being patient, a first for everything.”</p><p>“Yeah well, miracles do happen.”</p><p>“I hope so.” Morse muttered into Peter's chest, feeling the heat of his breath against his skin.</p><p>Peter would make sure that before he fell asleep, he’d pray to any and every god he didn’t believe in to give Morse his sight back. It was nothing short of a miracle, but he asked for it anyways.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this is not a warning. fluff is occuring. Hope you enjoyed it, the fluff only gets better!!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Never tear us apart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi I'm back! Well, I never really left, I've just been the busiest person ever and needed a time out so most just been reading but Ive finally made another chapter (go me) hope you like it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Morse woke slowly, feeling the warmth of the sun filter through the window, adding to the heat of Peter cocooned around him. He had one arm wrapped around his chest, the other under his head, pillowing him in protective warmth. He didn’t want to open his eyes just yet, perfectly content in a lazy morning in Peter’s arms.</p><p>He felt the deep movements of Peters chest against his back as he slept peacefully, the heat of his breath puffing against the back of his neck, lips almost grazing his skin. He could stay like that forever, content in his lovers embrace, but as usual Morse was sure he had 101 things he was supposed to be doing this weekend, likely dropping into the station to finish damn reports.</p><p>Reluctantly he opened his eyes and his heart shattered.</p><p>Darkness.</p><p>For a fragment of a second, he had forgotten. forgotten that his life had irrevocably changed and there was nothing he could do to fix it. He was blind. He couldn’t go or do anything alone again. His breath hitched in his chest, feeling constricted in his once loving embrace. How could he lie there like everything was okay? Nothing was okay. But still Peter lay, holding Morse like nothing had changed, like he was normal.</p><p>The problem with love was once you fell; it was hard to see anything else. Peter couldn’t see the problem, couldn’t see how much of a burden Morse had become, but Morse could, he was living it. now he needed Peter more than any lover could ask for, he needed Peter to become his sight, and that wasn’t fair. He could expect or allow Peter to do that.</p><p>He had to try and be independent for at least for some things. He’d learnt from a young age to not depend on others, not even family usually, other than Joycie but he rarely asked her for anything, not wanting to burden her. No, he spent so long living without anyone’s help. he was going to the bathroom, make a coffee and listen to a record. Like usual. He could do that blindfolded. Or just blind.  </p><p>Tentatively, he unwound himself from Peter’s hold, swinging his legs silently over the edge of the bed. He could do this; he knew the flat like the back of his hand.</p><p>Slowly, he stood, finding his balance on the wood slatted floor, letting his toes curl into the polished wood. Turn. Two steps in front. There, the rug at the end of the bed. Turn. Three steps. Turn. Two steps. He tripped over what he presumed was Peter's slippers by the side of the bed, silently cursing to himself as he regained his footing.</p><p>He paused for a second, listening out for any movements that could mean Peter waking but there were none. Only the long, deep breaths of a deep sleep. Thank god.</p><p>He found the door handle easily, surprised by his own muscle memory as he made the short journey to the bathroom.</p><p>He closed the door, subconsciously not locking it. just in case.</p><p>Finally relieved, he made the two steps to the sink, washing his hands. Instinctively he looked down to do it, just to be presented with more darkness. He couldn’t see what his hands looked like anymore. He can’t imagine they had changed much in the past two days but he’d never really taken the time to really look at them, to catalogue the freckles and the subtle scars at the end of his fingertips where he’d chew his nails as a child. Anxiety spiking as he’d sit silently in his room trying to stay away from Gwen and her cutting remarks.</p><p>He looked back up to where the mirror would sit on the wall, where he should see his sleep-content face, his ruffled, untamed hair. But he saw nothing. He wouldn’t see anything again. Not his hands, not his own face, not Peter.</p><p>He’d never see his friends, Joycie, <em>himself</em> again. He’d never watch an opera, work a case, drive the precious Jag again.</p><p>It wasn’t fair. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve the shit show the world had been throwing at him for so long. Surely it owed him this much, to have his senses intact. It simply wasn’t fair. He’d only ever tried his best, his whole life and this is where he ended. Fucking blind.</p><p>He didn’t realise the anger and pain that had built up, writhing in him before he let out a strangled shout and threw his fist at the mirror, hearing it shatter under his knuckles, feeling the pain in his hand but it felt good. Like the rage was actively seeping out of him. he could feel something that wasn’t sadness and self-pity.</p><p>“Morse?” He heard Peter’s panicked voice from the bedroom, followed by fast, heavy footprints.</p><p>He dropped his head below his shoulders, gripping the sides of the bathroom sink with his hands, feeling a warmth running down his fingers. He tried to collect his breaths, put the panic simply escalated.</p><p>The door burst open seconds later having not bothered to knock. “Jesus, what have you done?”</p><p>Morse let out a choked sob, hearing the anguish in Peters voice. He didn’t need to see his face to know the look he must be wearing.</p><p>“Oh, Endeavour.”</p><p>Before he could figure out where Peter’s shock had gone peter was turning him to face him, hands finding each of his arms, slipping them down to gingerly hold Morse’s bloody one.</p><p>“I can’t see.”</p><p>He heard Peter let out a deep sigh, his other hand cupping Morse’s cheek. “I know, love. I know.”</p><p>Without a second thought, Peter pulled him into a tight, assuring hug, letting Morse melt into him with shaking breaths.</p><p>“Shh. Its alright, it’ll be alright.”</p><p>Morse didn’t have the ability to tell him how wrong he was so he simply shook his head, crying into Peter’s chest, the older mans cheek resting on the top.</p><p>“My poor Endeavour.” Peter whispered into auburn curls with more endearment Morse had ever heard, breaking something in his chest.</p><p>He let peter guide him to sit on the edge of the bathtub, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “let me get the first aid kit.”</p><p>“I’m fine.” Morse muttered. Damn him for making more work for Peter.</p><p>“you’re not morse, you’re bleeding.”</p><p>“its fine! Just leave it.” <em>leave</em> <em>me</em>.</p><p>“not an option Morse. Now sit still.”</p><p>Peter returned a minute later, clicking open a box next to him. “This might sting.” He informed before dabbing an alcoholic wipe over the cuts.</p><p>Morse hissed, flinching slightly, but Peter kept his hand in place with a firm grip. “Sorry about the mirror.”</p><p>“Its fine, didn’t much like it anyways.”</p><p> “Did I wake you?”</p><p>“No.” He was lying. Morse always knew.</p><p>He carried on cleaning his hand silently, bandaging it firmly once he was satisfied the cuts were clean.</p><p>For good measure, he placed a kiss on the top of Morse’s hand once he’d finished. “Good as new.”</p><p>Morse smiled gratefully. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Its okay, Morse. Really. Just next time don’t take out your anger on inanimate objects?”</p><p>“it was looking at me funny.”</p><p>Peter huffed. “sure, it was.” He then ushered Morse into the living room where he put on a calm record and made Morse his usual breakfast.</p><p>They sat in silence eating. Morse busy in his own thoughts.</p><p>A wise poet, Kahlil Gibran, once said ‘if you love someone, let them go’. That played over in Morse’s head for the best part of the morning. He really did love Peter, more than anything. but he couldn’t put him through this. He deserved a normal life, to be happy and loved and have a life full of promises and beautiful prospects. He didn’t deserve to be stuck with a blind man incapable of doing anything but pissing by himself.</p><p>“What do you want to do today?” Peters voice broke through.</p><p>Morse shrugged. He didn’t feel up to anything. he didn’t want to leave the house unless it was for the pub where he could drink away his sorrows but Peter sure as hell wouldn’t let him do that. “Think I’ll stay here, don’t let me stop you though if you want to go out, Ill be fine.” Fine with an empty house and a bottle of whiskey with his name on it.</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous, Morse. I’m staying with you, no matter where we go or what we do, even if we do nothing.”</p><p>Morse knew better than to argue with Peter over it. an ill Morse meant 24/7 babysitting from Peter, but was he really ill? Surely this was just his new normal and he couldn’t let Peter waste all his time trying to fix something that can’t be repaired.</p><p>“I could read to you?”</p><p>“Already read all my books.”</p><p>“We could go out and get a new one?”</p><p>“I don’t want to go out.” He knew he sounded like a child, he knew Peter was trying his best with him, but he didn’t want babying. He wanted Peter to go out, see that he can still have normality.</p><p>“Okay, well we could do more crosswords, that was fun right?”</p><p>Morse shrugged.</p><p>“Come on, Morse I know its hard, but it doesn’t mean we should sit and wallow all day.”</p><p>“No, Peter you don’t know. You don’t know what its like. and it shouldn’t mean we sit inside and sulk. You should go out, live your life.”</p><p>“No, you’re right. I don’t, but… we’re in this together Morse.”</p><p>“You don’t have to be.” It was almost silent, but Peter heard him loud and clear.</p><p>He heard Peter drop his cutlery “What?”</p><p>Morse sighed. “It’s almost been two days, peter. I still can’t see.”</p><p>“There’s still time, Morse. You can’t give up.”</p><p>“Peter, you need to accept I’m probably not going to be able to see ever again!”</p><p>“I can’t, Morse. I can’t. You’re going to get better, I know it.” Peter pleaded, reaching a hand to grip Morse’s arm in assurance.</p><p>They sat in silence for a while before Morse cleared his throat.  </p><p>“Peter, listen to me. I – I’ve had a lot of time to think over the past few days. Not much else I can do right now, I know, but…”</p><p>Tears slipped from his unfocused eyes. “There’s a good chance I’m not going to get better.”</p><p>“No, <em>no</em>.” Jakes hated where this conversation was going already. Hated the defeated tone in his lovers voice.</p><p>“Peter, please just listen.” He took a breath, trying to control himself. “You didn’t ask for this Peter. this isn’t what you signed up for, and I wouldn’t think less of you if you walked away now.”</p><p>“Morse what the hell are you talking about?”</p><p>He wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers. “Just think about it, Peter. you don’t want to be stuck with a useless blind man for the rest of your life. You don’t want this, and I don’t blame you.”</p><p>“Morse stop it.”</p><p>“No Peter, I can’t. You need to hear this, Im blind, I'm going to lose my job if I haven’t already, I won't be able to get a new one, I'll have no income, I’ll need help all the time because I'm fucking useless. You don’t need that on your shoulders Peter, you can’t have that burden.”</p><p>“A burden? Jesus Morse.”</p><p>“That’s what I'll be! You’ll practically have to mother me every day and I don’t want you to do that. you don’t want to do that.”</p><p>“You just don’t get it Morse; I’d do <em>anything</em> for you. absolutely anything! I know you’re not used to people loving you unconditionally, but this is us. I'm not leaving you.”</p><p>“I won’t let you stay; I won’t do it. I won’t let you waste your life over this.” And god was it killing him to say. He wanted Peter more than anything he’s known but he couldn’t let him stay, couldn’t let him throw away his life having to tend to his every need. That wasn’t a relationship. He couldn’t ask Peter to do it.</p><p>“You think that’s what I’m doing? Wasting my life with you?”</p><p>“There’s no thinking needed! It's exactly what you’d be doing.”</p><p>“Don’t do this. Don’t push me away.”</p><p>“I don’t want you here. I won't let you stay.”</p><p>He heard Peter take a sharp intake of breath like Morse had point blank stabbed him in the chest. “For someone so clever you can be a complete fool.” Peter whispered brokenly.</p><p>Morse felt the bed rise slightly, hearing feet storming away. and that’s when he knew he’d done it. he’d pushed away the one person he truly cared about. He knew he’d do it one day. He always did.</p><p>He listened out for the front door to slam or any door. But nothing happened. There were no more footsteps, the flat was dead silent, leaving Morse with the lingering scent of Peter’s aftershave.</p><p>He couldn’t let himself cry. Not now. he did this, he had no right to cry. He just hoped he hadn’t hurt Peter as much as he was right now. his chest felt like it was ready to implode at any moment, heart hardly able to keep a rhythm.</p><p>He could hardly breath, hardly think. He did this. This is what he wanted, wasn’t it? to be alone. To push away the last person who cared. This was who he was, what he did. He’d made his bed and now Morse had to lie in it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>okay okay i promised fluff and i swear this next chap is like the fluffiest thing ever and will be out in the next few days but we know fluff hits better with heart aching angst so... sorry <br/>thank you for reading &lt;3 1 chapter to go, ily</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. To have and to hold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Peter felt like every inch of him was vibrating with overwhelming emotion. He just wasn’t sure which emotion it was. He was angry at Morse for trying to push him away, annoyed he even thought of doing it in the first place but mostly what he felt was sadness. He felt heartbroken for the man he loved. Morse was an intricate man. He wasn’t an open book, especially with emotions. He knew the neglect he’d experienced as a child, knew the fear he had over depending on someone after so many in the past had let him down. No, he couldn’t be angry, because he understood. He understood the man who prided independence not wanting to rely on someone else, even if it was Peter, he knew that he didn’t want to push Peter away, not really, he just didn’t realise that Peter staying wouldn’t make Morse a burden, wouldn’t slowly make Peter hate him, but that’s what he expected. He was afraid Peter would learn to resent him, and that broke his heart.</p><p>How could he be angry when Morse was hurting more than ever? He shook his head and opened the cabinet behind the mirror Morse smashed and lifted up the bottom shelf, revealing a small box. If this was the only way Morse would take him seriously then so be it.</p><p>He slowly walked back into the living room, where Morse sat rigid, unmoving save for the short intakes of breath. He cleared his throat making the younger man jump and turn towards the source of the noise.</p><p>“Endeavour Morse. I don’t know how you think I could leave you because I couldn’t, ever. You trying to push me away wont work because the truth is, I’m not going anywhere, no matter what you say.”</p><p>“Peter-“</p><p>“No, just... I love you, Endeavour. You know what that means? For better or for worse.”</p><p>Morse’s doubtful look managed to sway him from his speech. For a moment he just stared at the painfully sad, confused eyes staring in his direction.</p><p>“Shit, this isn’t how I wanted to do this, but I guess nothing’s ever straight forward with you.” Peter complained, shuffling over to kneel in front of where Morse sat.</p><p>Morse frowned. “Peter?”</p><p>“I ugh, got you something.” He said, placing a small box in Morse’s open hands.</p><p>“Peter…”</p><p>“No, it’s your turn to listen to me. I love you. in sickness and in health and all of that shit. I want to be with you <em>forever</em>Morse... Till death do us part, if you’ll have me.”</p><p>Morse hesitantly opened the box, feeling the shape of a solid thin band planted in the middle of a velvet feeling cushion.</p><p>“I didn’t even know I was capable of loving someone until I met you, and god, sometimes it hurts thinking about how much I love you. you’re a walking disaster, but you’re <em>my</em> disaster. You stress me out and you worry me, and god knows one day you’re gonna give me a heart attack, but I love you. every single inch of your accident-prone body and I wouldn’t change you for the world.”</p><p>Morse’s face was practically unreadable save for a hint of confusion lingering, but it was too late now, he couldn’t back out now even if he wanted to.</p><p>“I know we can never get married, or even wear the rings in public, but… I want you to know that if I could ask you to marry me, I would… And I guess that’s what I’m doing. I want to marry you, Endeavour… You’re it for me, the end of the line.”</p><p>He studied the young man, hoping for any sort of sign of ‘yes’ but all he got was a man looking completely stunned, box frozen in his hand.</p><p>Peter swallowed. Maybe this was entirely too soon, entirely not what he wanted and Peter hadn’t really pictured a scenario where Morse said no, but now he was here… “What would you say?”</p><p>Morse shook his head in disbelief, tears threatening to spill now falling down his freckled cheeks. “God, Peter I…Yes. Yes, I would marry you.”</p><p>Jakes grinned so widely his mouth hurt. He took the ring from the box and slipped it perfectly onto Morse’s finger.</p><p>“I love you.” Morse whispered before tracing his hands up Peters arm, across his shoulder to his face. he pulled Peter in with all his strength, onto Morse.</p><p>Peter willingly obliged, leaning in and kissing him in a primal sort of desperation.Hands found the others hair, neck back, roaming freely, still tight in lip lock. They were as close as they could be but not close enough, uselessly trying to pull the other closer, kisses turning uncoordinated and open mouthed.</p><p>It was only when Morse had to pull away for breath did they stop, both grinning incredulously.</p><p>“Dance with me.” Morse whispered breathlessly, pulling Peter down for another chaste kiss.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Morse gently pushed Peter off him, finding his feet and presenting a hand to where he knew Peter to be sat. “Dance, nothing too terrible, Peter.”</p><p>Peter shook his head, taking his hand and allowing himself to be pulled up. “Since when did you become such a romantic?” </p><p>“Coming from the man who just proposed.”</p><p>Jakes smiled. “Yeah, well. Only way you’d take me seriously.” He quickly turned the record player on and joined Morse, putting a hand on the others waist, stepping in time to each other.</p><p>“of all the stupid things you’ve done, this definitely tops it.”</p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p>“Asking to marry me, of all people. You must be mad.”</p><p>“or just madly in love.”</p><p>“Peter Jakes you old sap.” Morse teased, pressing his lips to Peter’s neck.</p><p>“It’s true, I wouldn’t change anything about you, about <em>us</em>. However, maybe try for few hospital visits in future. I don’t want to go grey too soon.”</p><p>Morse grinned and ran a hand through Peter’s perfectly trimmed hair. “Too late, I see them coming through already.”</p><p>“You cheeky bastard.” Jake’s laughed, pulling him closer.</p><p>Morse smiled in return, letting his head rest on Peters shoulder as they swayed. Maybe, just maybe, things wouldn’t turn out as terribly as he’d imagined.</p><hr/><p> Jakes couldn’t sleep that night, unsurprisingly. He wanted more than anything for Morse to wake up and his vision miraculously returned, but as time went on even Jakes had begun to lose hope.</p><p>In the monochrome of darkness, Morse looked like he always did, relaxed and care free, not like a man that was slowly falling apart piece by piece.</p><p>He couldn’t comprehend how much had changed in the past year. They’d gotten through a tiger, being kidnapped by a pure psychopath, a bank robbery only to be put down by a rookie with a crow bar. and through it all he’d never felt so close and far away from Morse at the same time.</p><p>He knew if he hadn’t spelt out his feelings Morse would have tried his best to shut him out, practically force him to leave. But he knew Morse well enough that he did the best he could in the situation. He saw the ring in the dim light lying snugly on Morse’s finger, curled under his chin as he slept.</p><p>Morse would marry him if he could. And to Peter, that was everything. It made him more determined than ever that he was going to make sure him and Morse lived happily to a grand old age, just after he had an intervention with Morse about stop attracting danger.</p><hr/><p>Morse woke slowly, not wanting to open his eyes, he could feel the warmth of Peter against him, an arm drawn over his chest as he slept soundly beside him. he could feel Peter, wasn’t that enough? To have and to hold, it had to be enough because that was all he had. he’d learn to accept it. and in the warm bliss of morning he felt almost normal.</p><p>He reluctantly opened his eyes to return himself to reality and Christ was the sun bright, had Peter forgotten to draw the curtains?</p><p>Wait. He could see light. He could see the – <em>very</em> – blurry outline of the window.</p><p>He blinked, eyes unnaturally sensitive.</p><p>Sliding out of bed, he didn’t dare to look away incase it suddenly disappeared and left him in darkness again. He couldn’t afford to lose this. Slowly he got to the window, tentatively opening the curtains further revealing the back yard he wasn’t all too fond of. There weren’t defined objects, as if the glass was clouded, but it was there, and if he really concentrated he could make out the stripes of Peter’s curtains.</p><p>Peter.</p><p>He turned and god had he never seen such a beautiful sight.</p><p>His hair was unusually a mess, even in his blurred vision he could make out the strands fallen across his forehead. His features were relaxed, making him look youthful in sleep. His lips were pursed and he was still curled around where Morse had been laying, clearly unaware of the loss of contact.</p><p>Morse padded back over to the bed, setting himself down slowly next to Peter. the man he said he’d marry. He looked down at the ring, the perfect little band Peter had given him only yesterday. He let his fingers trace the simple silver ring, overwhelmed with admiration.</p><p>He’d been engaged before but that couldn’t be more different. That engagement was based on trust issues and arguments, this was so pure. So right.</p><p>He looked back to Peter and smiled, tears brimming over his eyelids.</p><p>He reached out his hand, gently brushing the hair back from his forehead, smiling as he responded to his touch.</p><p>“Mm” Jakes moaned groggily. He smiled in his sleepy form, before slowly opening his eyes, finding Morse’s.</p><p>Morse smiled in return; hand still carded in his hair.</p><p>Peter suddenly frowned. “Morse?”</p><p>Morse never broke eye contact. “You know, you’re the best thing I’ve ever seen.”</p><p>He’d never seen Peter move so fast,  flinging his arms out and dragging Morse into a tight embrace.</p><p>More reciprocated, pulling the older man in closer. “Peter.”</p><p>Peter simply replied with a choked cry, grabbing at Morse’s shoulders.</p><p>“We’re going to be okay.” Morse whispered, and for once he really did believe it.</p><p>Peter eventually pulled away, taking Morse’s face in both hands and looking him dead in the eye. “You can really see me?”</p><p>Morse beamed back at him, nodding.</p><p>Peter smiled back pulled him into a desperate kiss, still sobbing. He let their foreheads rest together. “I was so scared, Morse.” Peter said in barely over a whisper.</p><p>“I know Peter. I didn’t think I’d ever…”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“It’s all fuzzy but… it’s getting there.” </p><p>“I’m glad, so bloody glad.” Jake’s murmured, pulling Morse in for another kiss.</p><p>“Now I have to go back to seeing your ugly mug every day.” Morse teased, letting Peter playfully push him off, acting offended.</p><p>“Be glad you got some time off, I don’t get any rest from yours.”</p><p>“Does this mean you’ll stop making me breakfast?”</p><p>Peter laughed. “I don’t know how hard you hit your head but you’ve never made your own breakfast since living here, I don’t trust you to not burn my kitchen down.”</p><p>“<em>Our </em>kitchen<em>.” </em></p><p>“Yes, god help me. Our kitchen.”</p><p>Morse flashed a grin before looking back down to the ring, feeling peters studying eyes on him.</p><p>“Do you like it?”</p><p>“It’s beautiful.” Morse whispered, smiling up to Peter.</p><p>“Good, took me bloody ages to pick, I know what you’re like.”</p><p>Morse laughed, elbowing Peter. “You wait until I pick yours out, you have no idea what the word difficult even means.”</p><p>“You’re getting me a ring?”</p><p>“Of course I am, that’s what married couples do.” And god, was it beautiful how easy it was to say.</p><p>“Has anyone ever told you you’re perfect?”</p><p>Morse blushed, looking down. “Now don’t go all soft on me now we’re engaged.”</p><p>Peter ruffled his hair, hopping out of bed with more energy he’s felt in years. “Fine, you can make your own breakfast.”</p><p>“Wait, no I didn’t mean it!” Morse called, chasing Peter to the kitchen, grinning.</p><p> </p><p>And maybe, just maybe everything was going to turn out for the best.</p><p>Fin.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Wow speedy update from me, sorry I can’t leave you hanging with that much angst, and this marks another story done! Wow! Maybe I’ll finish the rest of my wips before starting something else (ha good one) <br/>Thank u for sticking with this and for leaving comments/ kudos, I love you all &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Im sorry its not one of my stories without a bitta whump but its going to get soooo much better I promise x<br/>Ive literally been sitting on this story since chapter 4 of half man half god so I am SO happy to finally share it with you guys!!<br/>Let me know what you think of it so far &lt;&lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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